A Penetrating Friendship
by Sharwot
Summary: A short smut story I was dared to write. It is my first published short story here, and I hope you won't judge me too harshly for it :) It is a PWP story, so keep that in mind ;)


A low moan escaped his lips as he lay over the table on his stomach, he could feel his colleague's, his friend's and now his lover's cock filling him up. Watson rests his head on the back of his hands as Sherlock starts thrusting into him again, he can hear his satisfied grunts and the squishy sounds from the lube. Sherlock spreads Watson's butt cheeks a little, then moves his hands up on his hips, his fingers digging into the flesh and pulls on Watson. This makes his cock go in deeper and... Watson never imagined it could ever feel so amazing, he moans out loader as Sherlock increases his pace, fucking him faster and deeper. Each thrust of his cock, makes Watson gasp out in pleasure as it hits a spot up his anus he only read about. After a few moments he can feel Sherlock's cock and body go slightly rigid and then the slower pumping as Sherlock bellows out his orgasm, cum filling up inside of his butt.

They stand there for a while, Sherlock's cock still buried in his ass, they are both panting and grinning, "Well then, that was terrific as always, dear Watson," Sherlock says with his slightly crooked smile and pulls out. Watson straightens up and turns around, "Hmm," he replies and put his arms around Sherlock's waist bringing him in for a kiss. Their lips touch and not for the first time does Watson wonder about how strange and weird their friendship have become. But his thoughts are only there briefly as they kiss and touch, Sherlock's softening cock is pressed against his own hardening one, the lube and semen makes his cock slippery.

Sherlock have definitely improved as a lover, when they first started, his touches were expertly medical of nature, seeking out and finding sensitive spots on Watson's body yet not that exciting. But now they glided more caringly over his body, finding the small sensual and sensitive spots; his earlobe, his sides, the small spot between his anus and balls… Watson groaned into their kiss as Sherlock moves one of his hands down onto Watson's cock and starts stroking it gently; slow and half firm tugs, from the root of his cock out to the tip of it, his foreskin gliding over his cockhead.

After a bit Sherlock sits down on his knees and quickly slides Watson's cock into his mouth. Watson moans softly again and can't help but grin amused at the thought of the ever talking and clever Sherlock Holmes, using his mouth to actually give pleasure to someone. Those humorous thoughts soon evaporates as Sherlock starts sucking his cock a bit faster, his tongue and lips serving as protective layer against his teeth and with the slight sucking, Watson soon finds himself feeling so good he don't know what to do with himself. His naked butt is resting against the table and one of his hands is roaming through Sherlock's crazy thick and slightly curly hair, the other runs up his own chest and onto his head.

"Heaven's, this is good…" Watson manages to moan out. Not long after that Sherlock starts stroking his shaft firmly in rhythm with his mouth. From there on, it doesn't take long until Watson gasps out in pleasure and fills up Sherlock's mouth and throat with his white sticky semen. His cock twitches and spasms, his vision feint and the orgasm making him feel as if the world is tilting slowly to one side then to the other, then settles and making him feel just right.

Watson woke with a start, his eyes popping open and he remembers where he is. For some reason he can feel the absence of his lover, Sherlock, but a sound reassures him of his presence in the room. He is playing is violin again. Watson lifts his head and sees Sherlock's white naked back and then butt, then up again to his shoulders, watching the muscles work as Sherlock conjures music out of a string creating resonance on other strings. It is curious and so hauntingly beautiful. He just lies there for a while, listening to the music. When he first heard Sherlock play, it was neigh depressing music, but over the course of a few weeks it now seems more jovial.

Watson moves as if to sit up, but he quickly discovers his right arm is handcuffed to the bed, he studies it, trying to remember when that happened. The sound of it, however, makes Sherlock turn around, a playful smile on his lips.

"Oh good, you're awake," his deep baritone voice taking over the music from the violin. His piercing green eyes always feel as if they can read your soul, and on more than one account, Watson knows there is no hiding anything from Sherlock. He glances down his body and sees Sherlock's cock is hardening in the soft light from the few lamps scattered around his apartment. Downstairs he can hear Ms. Hudson whistling a tune while she cleans and maybe cooks in the kitchen, she has long since come to adore their relationship and knows better than to disturb them when they are in the mood.

"I know you've been feeling rather left out of late, Watson. You want to experience what is like to have your cock enter another man's ass, and I have been reluctant to give you that pleasure, as I feel it would compromise my boundaries, but now I have found a way and it requires handcuffs, so see to it that you are not disturbed too much about it as I place the second set of handcuffs on your other arm, alright?"

"Mhm, I can live with that…" Watson replies, feeling his cock growing at the thought of getting to enter Sherlock.

"As you well know, this will be done on my terms on and according to what I want, that has always been the basic principle of our relationship," Sherlock continues, moving to the side of the bed where Watson's arm isn't trapped by a pair of handcuffs.

Watson simply nods, knowing that is what he loves about Sherlock; that immense fragile intellect, always trying to be in control of everything and taking all the decisions and being rather spontaneous about it. Makes life very interesting.

"You are insufferable…" Sherlock says jokingly, Watson realizes he has been looking like a fool in love and blushes slightly. Sherlock produces a pair of handcuffs from the bed stand and quickly snaps them around Watson's wrist, locking the other end around a bedpost. Then he climbs up on the bed and positions himself between Watsons legs. He leans forward and places a deep passionate kiss on Watson's lips, the kiss becomes two, then three and then he loses count.

Without breaking their kiss, Sherlock somehow managed to continue their kissing and lube up his cock and insert himself into Watson in a missionary position. Watson somewhat unable to move his body, just accept and feel the pleasure of Sherlock's cock sliding further and further into him. He gasp and bites playfully on Sherlock's full lower lip. He returns a knowing grin and starts moving his hips back and forth while they kiss passionately, making a kind of music all on their own.

Watson doesn't know how much time passes; it feels so nice to be slowly fucked by his lover and kissing him, and hearing his heavy breaths next to his ear. But Sherlock suddenly gasps in a familiar fashion and Watson feels Sherlock spending himself inside of him. He nipples on Sherlock's earlobe and feel his cock is rock hard and expectant of what Sherlock promised him earlier.

However Sherlock lowers his more skinny body on top of Watson's more robust body and he can feel Sherlock's cock slip out of his ass with a soft plop. Sherlock lies panting on him, almost like a blanket, just more sweaty and wet. Watson laughs a little about that image; a Sherlock blanket yapping away with precise and inhumane insights, almost insults, about the wearer of the blanket.

"What is your sick mind thinking about now, Watson?" Sherlock asks, and then smiles, "No, don't tell me, I can already know; you're wondering how I can be such a skillful lover yet able to throw an insulting insight about your person right this instant if I cared to."

Watson merely grins in response, "As always, you flatter yourself, Sherlock. I was merely thinking about how you make a delightful blanket."

"Pfah," Sherlock replies with a wide smile on his full lips, he kisses Watson's neck and then pulls himself up and sits on Watson's stomach in a manner so he doesn't suffer any discomfort. Sherlock picks up the lubricant tube and smears some of it on his hand, then he reaches behind himself with both hands and lifts Watson's rock hard cock up to lube it up considerably. The remaining lube, he smears on his own anus. All the while he looks are Watson with his enchanting feylike green eyes.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Watson when Sherlock expertly guides Watson's cock into himself. Watson can feel his own mouth pop open in surprised pleasure, he watches Sherlock's expression and he seems pleased. Out of habit Watson start moving his hips up and down, but Sherlock quickly shakes his head.

"No, don't move. As I said, I will control this." His deep voice not allowing for any objections, and so Watson complied, lying as still as he possibly can, watching Sherlock start a slow lifting and lowering on his cock. Essentially Sherlock riding his cock. Watson gasps quietly at the feeling of sliding in and out of Sherlock's ass, his walls inside contracting and relaxing around his cock. It feels better than anything he could imagine. Physically he has felt something similar with the women he has been with, but combined with the emotional attraction to Sherlock, it culminates as something entirely different. Something divine.

Sherlock have put his hands on Watson's slightly hairy chest and uses it for support while he lifts and lowers himself on Watson's cock. All the while Watson strains against the handcuffs, feeling conflicted and so turned on by wanting to touch Sherlock and help him ride his cock but also loving how he is outside any influence of how this will go.

Watson closes his eyes in pleasure, feeling his cock sliding in and out of Sherlock's anus, devoting himself to this feeling. He wants to stay like this forever, never have to do with the outside world and its myriad of troubles again. Just this room, this man, and his these feelings shared between them. It is a world consisting entirely of him and Sherlock… and Ms. Hudson's whistling in the kitchen.

It doesn't take long for Sherlock to ride Watson to an orgasm, he groans it out and spray his semen inside of Sherlock. Panting, slightly embarrassed that he couldn't last longer, but at the same time terribly happy about how good it felt. Sherlock grins down at him and climbs off Watson's cock, it flops down on his stomach and leaves a smear of cum where it lands. Sherlock lies down next to him on his back, putting his hands behind his head.

In his deep voice, he finally says, "Well, that was very interesting. I could get used to that feeling."

"Hah...heh…" is all Watson can come up with, "how about you unlock me now?"

Sherlock turns on his side and looks at him, "Hm, no, I think not. I'm not entirely done with you and your…cock," he grins wickedly, then breaks out in a big delighted laugh. A laugh that warms Watson's heart and pushes the horrors of the previous case away with its baritone notes.

This is going to be a very, very delightful night.


End file.
